MIR, the sentient Wyvern.

Wicked Griffins

 A month passed and there were fewer accidents.

The wyverns bartered with the injured, old and rehabilitating ones.

The latter, three unfortunate women, including a male without family, scraped skins, collected bamboo and made traps together. The three of them watched over each other against the dangerous raptors.

At night I was wrapped up under the protective wings but I had nightmares that my parents were asleep or absent and that I was being pulled by the tail or legs to be eaten.

With my system I learned that I had the ability to breathe fire. Obviously, I took this skill along with a paralyzing breath. Without lighting, the breath was poisonous.

I came out of the cave, watched by Mother, and practised spraying a stinking, poisonous flammable liquid.

Mother stepped aside, horrified by the smell and looked at me sternly.

"PArdon MAman... MIR DEFENSE TRANCHANTS"

She understood that it was to defend me against the carnivorous predators called "Trenchants".

Then I took a wood and surrounded it with dry moss and bark cord and dipped it in the product of my throat and then I took two white quartz-rich stones and struck them.

I immediately had sparks that instantly set my first torch on fire.

This unlocked my fire-making skills, like the ones I had for fishing, thanks to the traps.

I held the torch and had the first fire.

Mum screamed and ran away.

"MOMMY DON'T BE AFRAID. GENTIL MIR!!!"

And I beckoned her to come closer.

The flame was small

"FIRE" is "FIRE!!!"

"Mommy don't touch. FIRE BITE!"

But she felt the heat and did not touch the flame. She was too scared.

Mum : "DANGER!

"NO MOM... FIRE CHASING SHARP NIGHT".

She thought about it and said to herself that I was right.

Then: "MUMMY HELP MIR TAKE WOOD... FEED FIRE EAT DRY WOOD".

It was hard for her to understand but after repeating it a dozen times, taking dry wood to feed the fire.

It was exhausting to repeat over and over again.

I wanted to cry... and I was afraid of having a short life... but I thought about it and told myself that dragons must live a very long time. Unless they were killed...

And here, the traces of wounds and arrows were a new proof of what I was saying.

Then Dad and my siblings followed me to see the flame.

Grandma and the other two wyverns saw cautiously.

And I shouted: "FIRE!!!"

"FIRE PROTECTS SHARP

FIRE WARMS COLD

FIRE COOK EAT

FIRE SMOKE FISH MEAT KEEP TIME OUT".

I showed the three wounded tinker wyverns how to make fire with dry moss, fire slime, wood and flints.

My young comrades all had fun making fire and soon every cave was lit.

At first there was chaos with the hissing and screaming of fear, but gradually there was no more fear.

Then I explained how to make torches with dense grass mesh, animal fat and finally the candles.